


Bad Programming

by IncurablePeppermint



Series: Leave him, Karen [1]
Category: SpongeBob SquarePants (Cartoon)
Genre: Break Up, Divorce, F/F, Forced Marriage, Hurt/Comfort, I promise it is not as edgy as those tags make it seem, Implied/Referenced Cheating, LEAVE him Karen, Most of those tags ref situations IN SHOW, Patrick Star - Freeform, Sheldon Plankton, supportive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2019-08-09 09:02:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16446833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IncurablePeppermint/pseuds/IncurablePeppermint
Summary: Sandy runs tests on heart rates and swim bladder efficiency only to find that staring at electrocardiogram screens all day keeps causing her romantic daydreams. Unfortunately, she understands that pursuing  these romantic feelings involve many, many complications.





	1. Krabby Patty

Sometimes you don't realize how you feel about someone until you're reminded of them on the daily by an experiment that requires a heart monitor. Or, at least that's how things have unfolded for Sandy Cheeks who is currently holding a Krabby Patty in front of Patrick as he runs on a treadmill, hooked up to several machines. She keeps expecting the beeping screen to offer a roll of the eyes or a helpful tip or a smart remark, when it can only offer ever changing numbers and a moving line.

Sandy has always been a bit of a loner. Not to an extreme, but she's a country squirrel that likes her own bit of bark to claim for privacy. And with this as the case Sandy figures it pretty befitting that she's not been been one to work up any particular romantic feelings. 

Besides, sea critters need water and she needs air. Unless she invented some special breathing apparatus or one of them suffered, none of her friends or acquaintances could receive romantic attention beyond hand-holding. Kissing would be against dried-out fish lips or waterlogged fur and neither of those are particularly appealing. 

Exceptions exist, of course. Lobsters and crabs can exist on the land, but she doesn’t know any she has romantic affections for. And, of course, waterproof computer wives can live in the air just fine. They don’t need to breathe and they’re an intellectual peer and she’s so _ shiny _ . And maybe Sandy can just order her own computer wife for companionship, but they develop their own personalities and mail ordering someone to marry you seems... Villainous.

“Patrick... Can’t.... Reach...”

“Just keep tryin’, Pat. I know yuh’ll get it!” 

If she hadn’t started this experiment she wouldn’t be thinking about Karen at all (and it’s useless to avoid the obvious, it  _ is _ Karen she’s thinking of). But how fascinating! Testing the heart rate and swim bladder efficiency between sea folk submerged versus those only given enough water to breathe. Does the higher oxygenation of shallow water make a difference in athletic capabilities? And how the information could be used! More efficient farming on the surface (sorry boys, canned tuna exists). Physical therapy under the sea. Wonderful possibilities.

If only she had someone to discuss it with who would understand. A partner, a companion. It’s times like this she almost regrets not taking up the offer to have an assistant in her treedome. Almost. 

“Need... Patty... Ugh. Sandy how come I'm not getting any closer?”

“You'll just hafta try harder.”

“You're right! I really love that Krabby Patty and I'll do anything to get it!” 

Sandy furrows her brow in thought as Patrick does his best to run fast enough to overtake the treadmill. Patrick just might have said something intelligent, albeit unintentionally. And about a krabby patty. Okay, he said something  _ convenient _ but still pretty stupid. 

If Sandy is having these thoughts about Karen then she should do something about them  _ other  _ than sit and let them stew while staring longingly at an EKG monitor. She needs to get it off of her flat and fuzzy chest. Even if it isn't to Karen.

Definitely not to  _ Patrick,  _ though. He's a big pink fool that both won't offer any good advice and will somehow manage to spread the news across town. She takes the krabby patty off of its string and tosses it into the tank of water on his head. He excitedly bites at it as he's shot off against a wall by the treadmill's momentum.

“Good job Pat, ya caught the patty.”

“Yeah,” he says through a mouthful of bun and mayonnaise. “And you thought I couldn't do it! Heh. Well, I'm off to my salsa lessons.” He rips off the lines stuck to him, leaving a mess of wires and little white pads in his wake as he walks down the treehouse stairs.” 

Sandy shakes her head disapprovingly at him and turns off the electrocardiogram just as the line goes dead with a resounding beep. After this she hunts for her suit and starts changing for a trip outdoors. 

Straight to Karen or to a confidant? There are obvious issues with walking right up to a married robot and announcing your romantic inclinations towards her. Moral issues. Social issues. But who could she go to for advice in  _ Bikini Bottom _ ? Her friends are sort of... Lacking in the brains department. Maybe it's the oxygen shortage down here. She should research that.

Until she has time, though, she needs to decide who the most  _ wise _ of her friends is. Squidward, maybe, but he's too cynical to utilize it. Pearl reads a lot of those teenie-bopper magazines about relationships, but Sandy  _ really _ doesn't want to ask a teen about this. So, no one is a good choice. Unless she wants to make a trip to Atlantis specifically to ask about her  _ feelings _ there's not anyone she is both willing to trust with this knowledge and that she thinks can in anyway help.

Karen is her only peer.

And that explains her feelings, so Karen will surely understand. Sandy just wants to get it off of her chest. Karen is free to delete it from her data banks the second Sandy's curly tail disappears out the door. And Plankton is probably going to be too busy scheming to pay her any mind when she stops in for a chat.

Sandy gives the Chum Bucket's front door a polite knock. Plankton answers, carrying a fabric napkin that is as fancy as it is miniscule. “Come in, come in. There's no reservations at the Chum Bucket! Our valued customers can visit any- Oh. It's you. The squirrel... Thing.”

“Sandy.”

“Yeah, whatever. Whaddaya want? And hurry it up, I'm a busy man.”

“Uh huh. Well I was hopin’ for a chat with Karen, so I shouldn't be in  _ your _ way.”

“My computer wife? I guess you  _ are  _ some sort of scientist.” He adds, “barely,” hidden inside a cough. Sandy ignores it for the time being, wanting to be as civil as possible given the circumstances. “Alright. Karen! You have a visitor! For once.”

Plankton exits through a tiny door within a door leading to the back. Sandy takes a seat at one of the many, many empty metal tables of the Chum Bucket dining room and waits. Even through the airy padding of her suit the bench is uncomfortable. 

Eventually, Karen emerges from the back. “It's so nice to have a visitor! But... Last time I saw you everyone in Bikini Bottom had fallen victim to one of Sheldon's ridiculous schemes. He hasn't been scheming behind my back, has he?”

“Oh, not at all. Nothin's  _ wrong _ . Per say.”

“Ah, good. I'm getting tired of cleaning up his messes. You know I've kicked him out before, but he's so small he keeps getting back in.”

Sandy holds back from mentioning the airtight nature of the treedome. “I could help ya seal the place up sometime while he's off tryin’ ta liquefy all the pickles in a three mile radius or turn Mr. Krabs inta a robot.”

“Or disguise himself as a sesame seed!”

They both laugh at this. Sandy taps the table nervously. “I did have something to discuss with you.” 

“Sounds serious.”

“In a way.” Sandy takes a moment to gather herself. Takes in a deep breath. Then she crumples under the pressure like an aluminum can. “Do ya ever think maybe... About leavin’ Plankton altogether?”

“Well, I  _ am _ programmed to forgive him in an episode convenient time frame. So it's hard to stay mad at him. Even though I'm certain that taking him back has been taking a toll on my processing unit.”

“I know how to code.”

“What?”

“Sorry. I mean... I can code past those failsafes he put in to keep you around. You deserve to know if  _ you _ forgive him for replacing you with a new model or Mrs. Krabs or for forgetting your anniversary. You're a fully realized android and if I'm bein’ honest him keepin’ ya around with wife-ai is a little...”

“Desperate?”

“I was gunna say  _ creepy _ , but that too.”

Karen's screen shows an ellipses as she processes the offer. “Alright. If you  _ can _ get that little bug out of my system, feel free to do so.”

“I'll get started on it tonight. Need a break from my current experiment anyway.”

“So what's in it for you?”

“Me?”

“I know you're not a rascal like my Sheldon or a skinflint like Krabs, but you aren't exactly carefree. I want to know what's in it for you.”

Sandy tugs at the neck of her suit as if it could possibly be tight and as if loosening it could do anything other than cause a leak. She gets fired up about computer wife programming (it should be illegal to distribute such advanced ai only to reduce it to the romantic position it can serve). She didn’t manage to  _ actually _ speak her mind and now it feels inappropriate.

“I enjoy your company, Karen. If you decide ya wanna get away from Plankton after I implement this bit of code, then I was hopin’ ya'd be willin’ to assist back at the treedome sometimes. Ain't anyone else in this town worth my time as an assistant.”

“I could do that  _ now _ .”

“Alright, I s'ppose ya caught me. I uh... Might be sportin’ a bit of a crush on you. And if you're  _ able _ to decide to leave Plankton, then I figure I stand more of a chance.”

Karen laughs, coquettish and robotic, and swipes her hand in the air playfully. “Oh, you. But you know my model is still available for purchase.”

“That ain't what I want. I mean... You're a sophisticated AI, Karen. And I'm attracted to you  _ personally _ , not your basic model. Besides, I have a  _ lot _ of moral objections to  _ buyin’ _ a computer wife.”

“You don’t like the idea of coding a partner to meet your needs.”

“No. And I don’t want you or any other mailed out robot to feel obligated to marry whoever happened ta fill out yer order form.”

The metal door to the back opens up, “Karen! Stop gabbing and get back here, I need you to run a simulation for me. I think I’ve figured it out this time!” Karen clenches her metal fists and they creak, threatening to dent. Her fan runs harder for a moment, whirring out a strange simulation of a sigh. Despite her obvious annoyance, she turns and starts towards the door.

“Of course, Dear. I’ll have to talk to you later, Sandy.”

“Ain’t a thing. I’ll try ta be less of a stranger.”


	2. Cappuccino

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandy drinks a little coffee and tells both Spongebob and herself a couple little lies.

“Sandy! Sandy!”

Spongebob’s high pitched voice can be heard through the shut doors of her tree-house as soon as he steps past the metal doors of the treedome into open air. Sandy is running on seahorse milk cappuccinos and the mental image of Karen wheeling herself out of the Chum Bucket with a suitcase in tow. Despite her exhaustion she quickly saves her work and backs it up to a usb, which is of course shaped like an acorn, then shuts her computer down. No matter how tired she may be she knows that Spongebob is an accident waiting to happen.

“Sandy!” he bursts through the door into her lab and a splash of water from his helmet barely misses her keyboard. Saving her work was a good call. “Plankton! Krabby Patty! Mr. Krabs! Frozen!” Sandy chugs the caffeinated contents of the mug at her desk and then shakes her head to force the sleep out of her body.

“Hold up, bud. Ya gotta explain it a mite slower.”

“Plankton and Mr. Krabs and all the Krabby Patties are in the Krusty Krab freezer and Plankton froze the door shut with his freeze ray by mistake and I can’t open the door! I’ve tried everything!”

“Have ya tried ta bust a hole in a wall ta get ‘em out?”

“Almost everything. I have tried _almost_ everything.”

“Think ya got it covered, Spongebob?”

“I think so, thanks Sandy!”

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh, Sandy?”

“Yeah?”

“Karen said to ask you about something. She wasn’t really clear about it.”

Sandy suddenly feels a lot more awake. Karen asked about her. Well, asked about the code she’s working on. But that means she _really_ does want to get out of there and wasn’t just caught up in the moment, riffing on her husband. Unless Sandy is just looking to hard into this. It feels good, no matter what it means.

“That’s ‘cause it’s.... A surprise.”

“A surprise? Oh! I love surprises!”

“Yeah, so you gotta make sure when you talk to Karen about it no one else can hear you, okay? Especially Plankton.”

“Is it a surprise for Plankton?”

“N-Yes. It’s a big surprise we’re plannin’ for him.”

Spongebob makes a movement with his hand like he’s zipping his lips, locking them shut, and throwing away the key. “Oh! Sandy you have to tell me what the surprise is!” He looks up at Sandy with his big, innocent eyes sparkling and his hands clasped in front of him. Sandy feels a little bit of guilt about lying to him, but not too much. This is a delicate situation and she can’t risk interference. Besides, she’s not totally lying. This will certainly be a surprise for Plankton.

“I can’t tell ya everything, _yet_. But it’s real important that ya tell Karen I’m testing through the final phases. Okay?”

He practically vibrates with excitement. “Oh I wish you could tell me! But I’ll be sure to get that to Karen as soon as I can!” He looks around as if he expects someone to be listening in on them in here. “Can you give me a hint?”

“Spongebob?”

“Yeah?”

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“What do you mean- _Mr. Krabs!_ ” He jumps as the realization hits his little spongy brain, threatening once more to splash Sandy’s computer. Sandy manages to put her arm up in time, getting her fur wet instead of her monitor. She makes a mental note to switch her old computer out for one of the ones from bargain-mart that is less liable to short circuit due to Spongebob’s hyperactivity or Patrick’s pure stupidity. “Sorry Sandy, I’ve gotta go!” He hurries out of the room and soon Sandy hears the tell-tale metal clicking of the double-sealed doors of her treedome.

She stares down at her usb stick for a moment. Her brain tells her to get some beauty sleep, her gut tells her to hurry things up. Typically, Sandy is one to trust her gut. But Sandy is not one to overwork herself. She knows she does her best work well rested (doesn’t everyone?).

But her gut might be a bit biased right now. The faster Karen gets past her wife programming the faster she can decide if Plankton is worth staying with (Which she has to assume Karen won’t. He’s a total creep. He unplugs Karen to date outside the marriage, he tried to replace her with an upgraded model, he stole Sandy’s fur). And the faster that happens the faster Sandy can figure out if she has half a chance to romance Karen. Not on the rebound, of course. That would be taking advantage of a vulnerable person. Swoop in, release her from her failsafes, and offer a nice dinner-date? Not ideal.

So either way, she’s going to be waiting for a while before she can make a real move. If she makes a real move. If Karen shows interest. So she might as well get some rest. Sandy bites her lower lip for a moment, tossing the thought of powering through just a little more work around just one more time.

She reboots her computer. Who can sleep after a double caffeinated seahorse milk cappuccino anyway? A few more lines, she tells herself as she pulls up her code and starts ticking away at the keyboard. An hour’s work, maybe, she assures herself as she plugs away at it.


	3. Acorn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandy runs her program on Karen and uninstalls some outdated software.

Sandy holds up her novelty acorn USB stick with a wide but sleepy smile plastered on her face. What is sleep to a determined squirrel? The Cheeks family doesn’t back down from anything, for even a moment. Not even long enough to curl up under a warm quilt and let the shakes ease out of their arms. Her arms. 

She’s still running mostly on cappuccinos, hope, and spite. And  _ maybe _ a few experimental seanut butter energy smoothies that she thinks might have given her a rash on her tongue. But whatever, the program is done. Plankton’s failsafes and firewalls are ready to be brought down with a single little stick of data hiding inside a rubber acorn.

Such a small device holding such an important chunk of code. She should have done this years ago. She  _ could've _ done this years ago. It doesn't escape Sandy how selfish it is that she waited this long to put the work in to get Karen away from Plankton's nefarious little mitts. It isn't as if she was ignorant of the state of things in the Plankton household. Karen complains and sometimes blubbers about Plankton during their girls’ nights, after all. 

It doesn’t matter if it’s selfish, because it’s done. And even if Karen doesn’t end up wanting to pursue anything with Sandy she is at least free to ditch that tiny little creep. And then what? He’ll order another wife, right? What then? Sandy takes a drink of her now cold cappuccino before slamming the cup down on the table and standing up, determined despite her shaking legs.

Sandy will worry about ‘then’ when it happens. Right now, Karen is her friend. She cares about Karen. Even if she didn’t sport a mean crush on her then she’d still eventually end up coming to this same end. Karen’s life with Plankton blows and so Sandy to the rescue. She’s sure she’d end up doing this anyway. She picks up her telephone and dials.

“Spongebob?”

“Oh! Sandy! Is this about the surprise? Are you going to tell me what the surprise is? I wanna know!”

She can’t help but chuckle at how overly excited he is, despite the situation. “It  _ is _ about the surprise. But listen, I need you to get Plankton out of the Chum Bucket for awhile, okay? That’s where the surprise is going to be and Karen and me need a little time.”

“Of course! Oh, I can’t wait to see what it  _ is _ , Sandy. I bet he’ll  _ love _ it.”

Spongebob hangs up before Sandy is forced to lie any more. She isn’t quite sure when she decided to trick Spongebob into helping out, but it doesn’t feel great. Tricking Spongebob is fine, if it’s not to any detriment. But this will make the little square dude feel pretty awful. Or, she thinks it will. Whatever. There’s no turning back now that things are in motion.

Normally Sandy would weigh the consequences and implications of this extreme an action before taking it, but right now she’s just putting on her underwater space suit and starting her march towards the Chum Bucket. Blinded by science? Ambition?  _ Love _ ? She’s certainly made these sort of easily calculable mistakes before. There was no need to rope Spongebob into this. There was no need to work herself ragged. It did her no good to pit Spongebob and Patrick against each other to see how well they would do in the wild. 

No, it’s probably as simple as getting ahead of herself. The Sandy she wants to be is the Sandy months from now when Karen is safely out of rebound range and has probably gotten some job where she wears a silly hat as she finally gets a chance to finish graduate school. And there Sandy will be, waiting. When she’s done something reckless before things have worked themselves out. She’ll get through this, take a nap, and deal with the consequences later.

She can't be certain if Spongebob has already gotten Plankton out of the way or not, but truth be told she doesn't particularly care. If he's still loitering in his own empty establishment she'll just set a cup on him, like a spider and hope he doesn't make doe eyes (well, doe  _ eye _ ) at Karen to activate the 'protective wife protocol’ Sandy  _ just _ finished coding a solution to.

The door to the Chum Bucket cracks open a bit as Sandy approaches. Karen stretches a metal arm out from behind it, motioning for her to come inside. She picks up her pace despite her exhausted body practically screaming at her not to.

“The Spongebob asked Sheldon to go on a 'Krabby Patty Picnic’ with him. I assume that was a distraction?”

“Yeah, I called in a favor. He wants me to make some kind of special jellyfishing gear in exchange.”

“Of course that's what he wants. Well, let's hurry up before they get back.” Karen does little to hide the excitement and anxiety in her voice. Or maybe Sandy is projecting. She can't be sure.

“Yeah, no problem. You have a USB slot or a way to connect..?” As Sandy talks she realizes she put the stick in her pocket before putting on her suit. With a sigh she starts the process of pulling her arms in, grabbing the stick, unzipping her suit, and quickly transferring the stick out into the ocean. The seawater that inadvertently enters her suit drops down and rests at her feet, making them unfortunately soggy. She thanks the stars above Texas that the little rubber acorn is a lot more waterproof than she is.

“Yes, but I think this will only work if we use your program on... Well, this.” Karen hooks herself up to a server, at which point her mobile body shuts down and her face appears on the large, wall-mounted screen that dominates Plankton's lab. 

“That's a fair assessment,” Sandy says, trying not to be taken aback by Karen's sudden switch to such an impressive and, honestly, beautiful form. She's seen Karen like this before, but it always gets her. A dominating metal figure, like those old computers that took up a room.

“There's a USB port next to the ‘holographic emergency dinner’ button.” Sandy finds it quickly. She chooses not to think too long about how pitiable the image of Plankton eating a hologram instead of real food is. When she plugs in the USB Karen let's out a little shivering noise, as if she's just taken a drink of something stout.

Sandy moves to Karen's keyboard and starts plunking away, despite being limited by her suit's mitten-hands. Installing. Loading. Running. Protective wife protocol uninstalled. Nagging spouse protocol uninstalled. They flash across the screen one after another, the completion bar sitting under the text giving a sense of urgency. The door to the lab opens wide. 

“Karen I've finally done it! I got a Krabby Patty! And I didn't even need a plan, Spongebob just  _ invited _ me to a picnic. The yellow buffoon. Now analyse this for me while I work up a victory speech that'll really show Krabs.”

Plankton tosses the Krabby Patty onto a table and then starts to walk away. He hasn't even noticed Sandy or the last bit of his wife-ai add-ons uninstalling he's so distracted by his victory.

“No.”

“Uh-huh, that's what I thought was in it-.. Wait, no? What do you mean  _ no? _ ” Plankton finally faces Karen, who has shifted her screen to a displeased and pixelated face. Sandy quickly composes herself, trying to look smug instead of sleepy to back up whatever Karen is about to say. “And what is the squirrel doing in  _ my _ lab?”

“ _ Sandy _ is helping debug my system. And I mean  _ no _ . I don't have to help  _ you _ .”

“I  _ built _ you!”

“Too bad.”

“Well,  _ fine _ . I'll analyze it myself. Lousy computer wife, won't even help me with my  _ life's work _ .” 

“No you won't!” Spongebob runs through the door to the lab, right up to the Krabby Patty. He takes a moment to catch his breath before snatching it and swallowing it whole. Then he looks around, confused. “Did you guys not have enough time to set up the surprise?”

“Surprise?” Plankton asks.

“Oh, there's a surprise. I'm moving back in with my mother!”

“E.M.I.L.P.?  Ugh. What did I even  _ do _ ?”

“What did you do? What  _ didn't _ you do? You replaced me with another woman.  _ More than once. _ You unplugged me. You used our honeymoon to hunt for the Krabby Patty formula. You went to  _ prison  _ over a  _ burger _ . You told me a screensaver made me look  _ fat _ , which doesn't even make  _ sense!” _

“Whoa, whoa. Honey. Darling. I thought we already made up after those little... Mishaps. You're  _ programmed _ to forgive all that.”

“Not anymore, Sheldon!” With that, Karen transfers back into her mobile self and picks Plankton up off the ground, then wheels to the back door, opens it up, and throws him out. “And don't come back until I've packed up!”

Spongebob looks over at Sandy and tugs at his tie, unsure of what to do with himself. “I'm not sure how I feel about that surprise.”


	4. Jelly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandy works on her end of the deal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, uh... Girl's night out means that they talked more, but this started before that so ignore their hot cocoa "dates" lmao

Sandy tightens a bolt on her soon-to-be patented auto-canning jellyfishing net. Pop on a jar, catch a jellyfish, and it tickles the jelly out before harmlessly releasing the little pink critter. Spongebob is still pretty miffed about her little 'surprise’ for Plankton... So hopefully this is a nice enough doo-dad to put her back in his good graces. Well, really he's just mad that she lied so much. And is pretty understanding about the surprise given Karen’s situation. She thinks. Sometimes he is a little yellow enigma.

Sandy gives the net a test swing. The jar holster is a little loose still, which might be a hazard. It also needs some field trials. There's always the risk it will shove the jellyfish into the jar, only partially screw on the lid, or release the jellyfish too close to the user. 

She side eyes her “new” monitor. She actually bought it a month or so back, a preventative measure against coffee and seawater. But undersea electronics really only have one set aesthetic too them. It has sat beside her, still in use, surface-bought PC, ignored. No, not  _ ignored _ , just unused. No matter how much she tried to separate the two in her mind, the monitor looked like Karen. And because it looked like Karen plugging anything into it felt... Invasive. 

Sandy blushes and caulks a little extra padding into the jar holster. It seems like a perfect fit now. She supposes she’ll have to test it herself, since having Spongebob or Patrick test it would ruin the surprise. But she got way too into it last time she tried out the sport. She never knows how to hold herself back.  

Suit on, Sandy takes a walk to Jellyfish Fields with her new invention stashed away in a picnic basket. It folds up to fit conveniently into the same size jar that’s used with it. This way, if she runs into her spongey little friend she can just sit down with some acorn granola and watch the flowers in the sky while she waits for him to go home. He’ll be none the wiser. And if he isn’t there she’ll have a nice snack. Win-win.

And she thinks about this plan the whole walk there. A distraction. Normally this would just be life, but right now a jellyfish milking machine is a distraction. Because everything is a distraction. She stares out far into the kelp covered fields and sees only jellyfish, plus a couple of stray snails. Sandy really thinks she needs a bit of a vacation away from her work, even casual work like this nonsense project. 

She takes out the net, unfolds it, and pops the jar and lid into place. Gives it a few swings just to make sure everything is in order. She hasn’t seen Karen since...  _ Then _ . Nor has she heard from her robotic romantic interest. But then, Sandy has no idea where Karen’s mother lives. And so, Sandy has no idea where Karen is. 

She catches herself sniffling and gets back to work. Jellyfishing. She pretty easily catches up to one, even though they’re all skittish around her now. The net gives it a harmless little tickle and it releases about half a jar of jelly before the net releases it and seals the jar. It tries to give her a shock, but just singes the flower adorning her helmet. 

Smaller jar. Ability to open and close jar between catches to fill it up gradually. Weight sensor so it knows when the jar is full. She processes the possibilities and holds the burnt flower in her hand. She wonders if Plankton can still use the holographic dinner button without Karen plugged in at the Chum Bucket. She wonders if he has E.M.I.L.P.’s number. She catches another jellyfish and spills some of the original jelly out with the motion, but fills the jar. She packs up the net and her picnic basket as if she knows when to stop.


	5. Kelp Fries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandy answers her email

“This is Karen”

It popped up in Sandy's inbox yesterday and she cannot make herself so much as scan the tiny preview of the email. She instead finds herself pruning her tree and considering importing some non-sea grown vegetables from back home to plant just so she'll have something else to tend down here. Her heart skips a beat when she looks at a wrench. 

She has to  _ do  _ something. Anything other than face that email. A ride through the industrial park. Recreational worm wrestling. Force herself to hibernate early as an excuse. 

What if it says something bad? She trusts Karen. Karen wouldn't say something outright  _ mean _ to her. But tell her she was out of line? Tell her she has a new boyfriend? Tell her she's staying wherever she moved off to  _ forever _ ? Definite possibilities.

Sandy accidentally snips a healthy branch. “Aw, nuts.” There has to be something she can do. To get this over with without subjecting herself to the deep sea terror that is opening that email.

_ Patrick reads Spongebob's diary.  _ Invite them over. Leave her computer conspicuously open on her inbox. If her were to just click this possibly juicy little tidbit... No. That would be inviting him to invade Karen's privacy too. That isn't fair to  _ her _ . 

Pine nuts and barbecue. There’s nothing to do about it. Open the email. Open the email. Sandy chides herself for her cowardice as she climbs high up in her tree holding a pair of large garden shears. She snips another branch off that is coming to a dead end. She takes a moment to look down at her handiwork on the tree, then throws her shears down. The pierce the soil and stick straight up out of the ground.

She gives in and travels into her tree to sit at her computer. She still hasn’t switched the monitor out for her waterproof one, but she bought a waterproof keyboard that she  _ did  _ go ahead and install. “This is Karen,” the subject line teases. “This is Karen,” it warns, scary as a Coral Snake’s stripes. 

Sandy clicks the email.

_ Sandy. I thought about staying indefinitely with my mother here in New Kelp City, but I’m just not a big city kind of computer. I’ve been working at a fast food restaurant to save the money up for a house. I have removed my scent sensors for the job, but my mother insists I will never get the smell of kelp fries out of my hard drive. I don’t know if it’s a good idea, but I plan to move back to Bikini Bottom. I want to know I can still rely on you before I finalize things, though. I refuse to get there only to find Plankton and Krabs are my only contacts in town. Yours, Karen. _

Sandy breathes in slowly. Her cheeks are warm and she’s overthinking. Karen is moving back to Bikini Bottom. Karen decided to move back to Bikini Bottom even though she doesn’t want to run into Plankton again. Karen signed the email “yours”. Karen wants to know if she can rely on Sandy. Sandy’s fingers hover nervously over the keyboard.

Just say something simple. Don't tell her to just move into the tree dome. Wait until she gets here to ask how she's been doing. Don't profess undying affection. It should be easy enough, but it isn't. Sandy takes a slow breath to calm herself down.

_ Howdy Karen. I'd be more than happy to help you out. Gives me a chance to work out between experiments anyway. Call me at 000-XXX-0000 when you're planning to come so I can make sure I have the day free for you. Sandy. _

She presses send and spins away from the screen. She puts her paws to her face. Months without a peep and then Karen signs with  _ yours _ . A month and a half of her new monitor sitting on her desk. Sandy shuts down her pc and starts the process of switching her old monitor out for the new, waterproof one. She needs to do something. She needs to keep her mind busy. She needs to make sure that if Karen emails her back right away she doesn’t know about it.


	6. Casserole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandy helps Karen move in and the two have a conversation over some coffee and casserole.

Sandy holds an acorn casserole out in front of her and takes a deep breath. Okay, so Karen is moving back into town. Okay, so Sandy is helping her unload her rent-a-barge and then going furniture shopping with her. And, Okay, all of that seems super... Domestic. But it can totally be just something that friends and intellectual equals do without any romantic complications. Honestly, all of that is just stuff that friends do. 

_ Yours, Karen. _

Sandy shakes her head to force the thought out. That’s just what Karen talks like. She’s always talked like that. Sandy didn’t pay enough attention to see if Karen singled her out to talk flirty with. Sandy knows she’s just looking more into it now because of her own feelings. 

She double checks the address she wrote down earlier, then looks up at the house Karen apparently bought. It looks like an overturned bucket. Some habits die hard, Sandy supposes. On the plus side, it has a fenced in yard with a well tended kelp garden and a cute little brick path. So it is at least a  _ nicer _ bucket than the one she used to live in. And probably not full of chum. 

Sandy sits on the stoop and sets her covered casserole beside her. Her downhome country nature dictates housewarming food. Her logical mind yells that Karen probably can’t even eat critter food. She’s almost certain that she’s watched Karen just spill tea on her screen instead of drinking it. She can’t figure out of she forgot breakfast or if her stomach is just full of butterflies.

Karen pulls up in her rent-a-barge soon enough. “Oh, Sandy! I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.”

“Nah, just wanted to get here early and check the place out a little. Looks cozy.”

“Doesn’t it? I just love classic architecture.”

She pops out of the driver's seat and opens up the bed of the barge, revealing just a few many homey touches. A charging station and a large screen. A tiny dining room set. A welcome mat demanding those who enter, “Wipe Your Wheels”. There’s also some basics like a feather duster and food (so maybe Karen does eat?) hidden amongst boxes of old trinkets. Sandy moves most of it herself and without issue, while Karen starts installing her charging station and double checking the wiring with an X-ray program.

Sandy takes a seat at the kitchen table and leans over to watch Karen finish up her installation. She insisted on doing it herself, because it’s a personal bit of hardware. Fair enough. Sandy taps on the table and tries to busy herself by looking at the wallpaper. A tasteful kelp and coral pattern. Light blue. Coral, kelp, bubbles, kelp, coral, kelp, bubbles. Karen picked a house in Bikini Bottom even though she specifically doesn’t want to run into Plankton again. Sandy chews the inside of her mouth as a distraction.

“Alright... Are you ready to get into that casserole you brought? It smells just lovely and I have a coffee blend I just know would pair well with it.”

“Sounds great. Do ya need any help gettin’ the coffee ready?”

“Not at all! You just sit there and make yourself at home. I’ll have everything ready soon.”

Sandy nods, but can’t really make herself at home. There’s nothing to do, which normally would be fine. She picked up meditation awhile back. She could think over a new invention. Plan a trip. Anything. But her head just won’t let her at the moment. She’s been doing fine without Karen around, just happy to know she wasn’t stuck in that garbage Chum Bucket anymore with Plankton. But now that she’s back...

Sandy hears Karen pull the foil back on her casserole in the kitchen. She focuses in on the sound of the coffee maker dripping and boiling. The clinking of mugs as Karen pulls them out of her mostly bare cabinets. The smell of coffee and reheating casserole. The idea of having a shared kitchen. How their design tastes might clash and make a mix of country-computerized decor. Gingham potholders next to floppy disk coasters in a kitchen made of bolted metal and unfinished wood.

“Alright, ready!” Karen calls in robotic sing-song. She carries two steaming mugs and two plates with forks and heaping servings of acorn casserole on a cutesy serving tray, made to look like a keyboard. Sandy takes her cup and pulls it into her suit for a drink as soon as Karen sets it down.

“Why thank ya’ Karen. I was gettin’ rather parched.” 

“Oh, it’s the least I could do!”

Karen lifts her cup up to her face and tilts it to take a drink. It just spills on her screen. This leaves more questions than answers. Sandy can’t help but find it endearing, despite how messy it is. She pulls her plate into her suit to eat.

“Do ya’ have any plans now that you’re back here?”

“Well, there’s a few places I think I might apply. I could coast by awhile but I want to keep busy.” Karen snorts out a laugh, it’s cute. “But that can wait a few days still. I need a chance to relax. Maybe take a trip to the salon or massage parlor.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Karen’s screen switches from its usual zig-zig line to an expressive, coy smile. “Though, I suppose you’re asking if I’m back on the dating scene.”

Sandy chokes on a bite of acorn casserole. “Well,” she pauses to cover a cough with her paw, “Well I wasn’t, but...” 

“I might be... Once I’m settled in... For the right squirrel.”


	7. Coral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandy gets an unexpected visitor and an expected phone call.

Sandy lets the water fill up in the entrance to her treedome before opening the door. “Hello,” she calls out, confused as she takes a look around. She could swear she’d heard someone knocking just a moment ago.

“Down here you flea-ridden excuse for a rodent.”

Sandy furrows her brow, but looks down to see a familiar green speck standing on her doorstep. She squats a little to get closer to his level. “Uh. Hiya Plankton. What are you... Doin’ here?”

“What am I doing here? You know exactly why I’m here! I’ve seen you running around town with _ my _ computer wife.”

“Ex-wife.”

“That’s just nonsense bureaucracy. A piece of paper does not make Karen my wife. The fact that I ordered and assembled her makes her my wife. And I’m tired of you getting in the way of her coming back to the Chum Bucket where she belongs.” 

Sandy grimaces. Plankton confronting her isn’t exactly unexpected (or uncalled for, really), but it’s still annoying. What does the little twerp think he’s going to get out of this? “Listen, Plankton. With or without me ‘in the way’ Karen isn’t goin’ back to the Chum Bucket.” 

Plankton crosses his tiny little arms and glares up at her, unruffled. “Sure, sure. Karen  _ definitely _ would’ve re-written her own programming if I gave it enough time.” His sarcasm is so thick that it’s practically tangible. 

She sighs, “I don’t have time for this. I’m a scientist. I have a job to do. Maybe you should get back to yours.”

“You had enough time to reprogram my computer wife, so your job must not be that important.”

Sandy slams the door on him and pulls the switch to drain the entrance. The typical warning alarm goes off and she keeps her arms crossed, fuming. She spent hours counter-programming Plankton’s nonsense failsafes, true. But Karen wasn’t happy with him, ever. Or at least she wasn’t happy with him any time in Bikini Bottom’s recent history.

And maybe Sandy had an ulterior motive. But Plankton always has an ulterior motive and... Sandy sighs. Maybe she does owe him a  _ small _ apology even if she was doing right by Karen. He’s an insufferable little protozoa, but she still (technically) ruined his marriage. Even though his marriage was a sham fueled by selfish programming. 

She hangs up her suit once she gets up into her actual tree-home and then flops down on her couch. She rubs the bridge of her nose and groans. Honestly, the last thing she wants to do is figure out an apology to Plankton. Maybe she can just sneak a recipe under his door that doesn’t include chum. Didn’t Karen say Coral burgers were picking up popularity in New Kelp City? She could figure out something like that. Something cheap and easy to produce that tastes better than  _ chum _ . If making nutty butter taught her anything, it’s that lard makes almost anything addictively tasty.

She sighs and starts mapping it out in her head. Coral is super cheap, honestly, and Plankton could swap it out for chum without having too much of an increase in initial product cost... Unless he’s just got a hoard of chum somewhere. Surely he doesn’t. Sandy shudders.

She distracts herself from that unsettling thought by hurrying over to her desktop and looking up undersea home cooking recipes for coral burgers, coral bits, and coral on the cob. Collecting the processes and ingredients into a sheet and then diluting it down to the most common parts of the highest rated recipes. Factoring in how most of it would need to be automated because Plankton is too small to flip a burger on his own. Ignoring the slight bit of guilt she feels when she realizes that Karen was probably a helpful set of critter-sized hands around the Chum Bucket. Even if he needs help, it shouldn’t be  _ Karen’s _ job. He’s perfectly capable of assembling a robot with significantly less sentience to sweep the floor and reach his highest cabinets. 

She puts it all together into an easy to follow, totally simple...  _ Packet _ . That she struggles to staple together due to how many directions and diagrams she’s worked up and printed out. Sandy looks at it and laughs at herself. She’s always overdoing something. 

Well, with her instructions like this she can’t exactly shove it in a bottle, pretend it’s a new secret formula, and roll it into the Chum Bucket. It’s going to be obvious who put it together. She holds it out in front of her and pictures Plankton picking it up. Maybe he won’t figure out that it’s her. He doesn’t exactly have high regards for anyone other than himself. He’ll probably assume he wrote it himself and forgot about it. Or he’ll at least delude himself into believing that.

Her phone starts ringing and she sets her papers aside long enough to pick it up. “Y’ello,” she answers as she tucks the handset between her shoulder and her cheek. 

“Hey there Bushy-tushy, are we still on for hot chocolate and educational docuseries binging tonight?”

Sandy chuckles lightly at the cheeky nickname. “Yeah, of course. I have an errand to run and then I’ll be right there.”

“Alright, I’ll get started on snacks then.”

“Lookin’ forward to it, you always make something mighty tasty.”

Sandy smiles warmly as she hears that cute, playful laugh Karen always lets out when she’s complimented. “Oh you’re just saying that cause I always make something with nuts.”

“You’re really a good cook, Karen. I’m gonna get going so I can get over there faster.”

“See you soon.” There’s a light kissing noise and then the phone clicks as Karen hangs up. Sandy feels invigorated and validated. Plankton can have her coral recipe and production line diagrams and if that’s not enough to get him off her back then that’s just too bad. He doesn’t deserve any more than one afternoon’s worth of worry. If he even really deserves that. 

Karen is  _ so happy _ now. Sandy can hear it in her voice. See it in her posture. Karen has a happy little life in a happy little house with a bunch of happy little hobbies and a job in IT that she only gently complains about. She’s not clenching her fists so hard she’s leaving little dents on her fingers. She’s not getting tiny science equipment stuck in her wheels. She’s baking cookies and shopping for coffee mugs with pictures of snails printed on them.

Karen is happy and Sandy is not sorry about it. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's over but it was leading up to a second fic the whole time, happy pride month I'm gay get ready for Plankton's POV  
> >:3c


End file.
